Meh. I'm bored. So I think I'll do a bit of backstory on one of my more favored characters, name of Tolaris. Enjoy, as I plan to go through with this one.<div style="text-align:center">Stage 1-Denial</div>

This wasn't happening. Couldn't be happening.

Shira couldn't be dying.

I wouldn't believe it. She wasn't even twelve yet. And we couldn't even afford for a good white mage to come and help.

I had to do something. I had to do something to help her, dammit. Mom and Dad were dead. Had been for a while. Dad left me only this damn beret that could change into a weapon. While it had saved me sometimes, it was no help now.

I had to come up with a plan. I couldn't cure her disease myself...I didn't know how. And I doubt I could figure it out very quickly. A white mage could, but we had no money.

Money.

I had to get a lot of money. Very quickly. That's going to be difficult, but I have to do it. Necessity could do quite a few things that regular people don't think of.

I had to save Shira, and I would be damned if I could to do so. <p><span style="font-size:x-small;">
Your eyes allow you to look out to the world, but they also allow the world to look into you.
</span></p>Edited by: [url=http://pub30.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=dragonsage007>Dragon] at: 6/10/03 12:35 am

Why couldn't the damn mage do anything? He was supposed to be good for his age. A real genius.

"I'm sorry, Tolaris, but there's nothing I can do. The symptoms are...odd. She's dying, but other than that she's perfectly healthy. I expect her to get better any minute...except her muscles and brain are slowly detoriating for some reason. It's just freaky."

Damn that mage. I had stolen and sold at least thirty paintings just today so that I could afford him. And now he didn't even know what was wrong.

"I know this is difficult...here. I'll give you a full refund, since I can't do anything. I'll also see if I can't get anyone else to help you out."

Damn him, damn him, damn him. Shira was supposed to be recovering by now. She didn't have that long left. Damn him a thousand times.

"Er...look, I know this is hard on yo-"

I had him pinned to the wall before he could finish.

"You have no idea how hard this is on me, asshole. I have had to lie, cheat, and steal. And what do I get? A sniveling coward of a White Mage who doesn't even try to help the patient because he doesn't know what is going on. Now, go back in there, and do not come back out until you KNOW what is wrong with her. Understand me?"

The mage merely stared in shock, until he regained enough composure to realize that he was slammed against a wall.

"And that would not do any good. However, a team of mages may be able to find out what is wrong. So, let me down, let me give your money back, and let me find out exactly what is wrong with your sister. Perhaps it's a new virus, that we White Mages can find out about before it's too late. If not, then there's nothing a solitary white mage could do about it anyway."

I stood there a moment longer, holding him by the robes. Damn him. I let him go, slowly, and escorted him out of my and Shira's home, a simple single bedroom apartment. I had taken to sleeping on the couch so that she could get more rest.

"I'll send a messenger soon. He'll let you know how I'm doing. Oh, and the name is Jal."

With that, I slammed the door on his face. No more words.

Damn Ishtar. Damn everything.

Damn me. <p><span style="font-size:x-small;">
Your eyes allow you to look out to the world, but they also allow the world to look into you.
</span></p>Edited by: [url=http://pub30.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=dragonsage007>Dragon] at: 6/10/03 12:36 am

<div style="text-align:center">Stage 3-Dealing</div>
I don't think I got any sleep last night. None at all.

Shira was still dying. Even the small team of White Mages that one guy...what was his name? Jal? Weird name. Anyway, even they didn't know what was wrong with her. They tried a few spells, but they just went kaput.

I needed to find some damn way of curing her. She didn't deserve this.

"Ishtar...please. Some God...just help her. Help her, and to Hell with me. She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't need to suffer like this. I don't give a damn what happens to me, so long as you help her. Just....dammit! What do you expect of me? Or of her? I'll do anything, just to make sure she gets better! I'll give up my very soul! Just stop her suffering, and stop it now! Just don't let her fucking die!"

Why....why did she have to die anyway? I couldn't think of a single goddamned reason why it had to be her.

Not a single...goddamned...reason....

Then I heard a faint moan from the bed. Shira was probably awake, needing her normal gruel.

"Tolaris..."

I quickly got up, not even noticing that I had sunk to the floor in my little monolouge. Her skin was paler than usual, and her hair...was falling out. In great clumps.

"Tolaris....you've been such a good brother..."

"Shh, don't speak. Save your strength." In fact, she hadn't spoken in weeks. It was amazing...she used to be a great chatterbox.

"I...haven't got much of that left, Tolaris. I'm going to die soon....we both know it."

"No! No, you're going to get better! I swear it!" I was sweating now. I didn't want her to die!

"Tolaris...take care of...whoever you love..."

She couldn't have.

No...she couldn't have died. Not already.

I checked her pulse. I checked to see if she was warm. I checked to see if she was breathing at all.

Nothing. Not one goddamned thing.

I remember passing out right then. I was probably going into shock. I don't care.

My sister was dead. My sister was dead. That was all I could think of.

My sister is dead. <p><span style="font-size:x-small;">
Your eyes allow you to look out to the world, but they also allow the world to look into you.
</span></p>

<div style="text-align:center">Stage 4-Denial</div>
Ja found me hours later. I had woken up, and was sobbing. Not like a hero in a play who's allowed a manly misting over of the eyes, maybe let a tear or two fall. No, I was howling like a baby. I didn't care.

She was dead. She was dead.

I hadn't noticed him for another hour or so. When I did, I started blaming him for everything. Blaming him for not curing her. Blaming him for not finding the cause. Blaming him for not being there when she died. I didn't care. She was dead. The mage just took the abuse. Stood there and took it.

She was dead, and I was blaming him for it.

We had the funeral some time afterwards. Jal and I were the only ones who went, and Jal was the one who actually performed the ceremony. I couldn't even touch the shovel. I couldn't carry her to her eternal resting place. I couldn't...I just couldn't. It would have...finalized something. I didn't want to confirm that she was dead.

I...stopped eating for a while. I don't know how long. I spent a lot of time asleep. I don't think I dreamed at all. If I did, it wasn't important enough to remember. Maybe I blocked them out. Jal came again to visit after a while...I must have really looked bad. His face went into shock, and he literally dragged me out of my home, to a restaurant. He ordered for me when I mumbled to the waiter I didn't want anything. He was on the verge of shoving the fork into my mouth, and forcing me to chew, I think.

"Tolaris...I know you loved your sister. But you've got to eat. You have to live."

He did not know what he had just said. I looked him directly in the eye, and snarled back.

"You do not know anything about me, or my sister. I don't care about the world anymore. I just want to be with her, protect her. Like I couldn't in this world." I don't think I realized what I was saying. But enough was enough, and Jal had helpfully given himself over as someone to vent at.

"And do you think she wants you to die, just because she did? Is your sister truly that selfish?"

"I...dammit...I just want to be with her. I loved my sister, Jal. More than anything or anyone I could in Gaera." Jal raised an eyebrow at me. Perhaps he was thinking that I was lying.

"Don't you set free those you love? Do you keep clamoring for them long after they're gone? Tolaris, you're being irrational. Understandably so, but still...you need to spend some time thinking."

I didn't want to take this. I just stood up, left the food there barely touched, and walked out of the restaurant. Walked home. He didn't come after me. Good. She was dead...and I didn't want sympathy from anyone. I just wanted her back...which couldn't happen. I didn't know what would happen if I went after her...I needed a drink. A hard one. Something to make me forget the pain for at least a little while. I changed course, headed towards the nearest bar. Thankfully, I now had the cash to afford a night of booze. Or two. Or maybe for the rest of my life.

Ishtar...why her? Why not me? Or...or both of us? Ishtar...damn you. Why did this have to happen?

She was dead, and I was drunk. Drinking an entire bottle of...something hard. Can't remember. But I'm pretty sure that it'll destroy my entire liver, at that. I was drunk, but I still remembered she was dead. I just passed out at the bar.

Ishtar...damn you. Damn you for killing her. Why couldn't I protect her? Why did you have to take her away? Why...why couldn't she stay...?

But of course. Tolaris still has a stage to go through, and I didn't say I would end it there, either! <p><span style="font-size:x-small;">
Your eyes allow you to look out to the world, but they also allow the world to look into you.
</span></p>

Well now, after leaving this for over a year, I think it's time to finally bring this puppy home.

<div style="text-align:center">Stage 5-Acceptance</div>

I woke up...Ishtar alone knows how long later. I noticed my wallet missing, not that it mattered much. I had spare money tucked away in my clothing. Speaking of which, I reeked, my clothes were dirty, even my beret was a mixture of brown, blue, and red. I staggered to my feet, on my way to the next bar-sleeping at home was just too painful anymore-determined that I'd get my next liver-destroying bottle.

I did. And several more after that. And after another good day of drinking, destroying my liver and brain cells, and getting quite a bit more drunk, I went home. I'll never know why, to my dying day. But I did, and I looked at the empty bed that used to have Ishtar in it.

That day, hungry, drunk, and dishevelled, I spent crying.

The next day, though, I cleaned up a bit. I changed my clothing. I even shaved. Not that it mattered at all...my real plan was to write a letter. A letter to my sister. It was just a way to try and reach out for her, maybe, but it would make me feel better. I just grabbed a scrap of paper and started scritching something out with a quill pen.

Dear Shira,

Your brother...Your brother misses you very much. He cries every day. I wish you hadn't had to die. Dear Ishtar, I wish you hadn't had to die. Wait for me in heaven, Shira, if what I did to save you doesn't land me in hell. I will make amends to those people, if at all possible. And...I will apologize to Jal as well. He only tried to help. Shira, I miss you so much. You were...you were my light in life. My only family left.

Wait for me. I'll find you, even if I have to fight Hell itself to do it. Just not yet. I need to repair what I've done in life first.

Dearest love,Your brother, Tolaris Kasin

After I wrote it, I lit a candle, and set the letter on fire. If a prayer can be heard on the wind, then surely a letter can be seen through judgemental fires. And with that, I put on my nice, clean clothes, and walked to a bar. Not to get utterly stinking drunk this time. Just tipsy. I...still couldn't bear her loss. But the letter helped me stop being completely depressed.

I went into a new one in town, called the Battling Ass, and sat down next to an attractive woman in a black trenchcoat. "I'm Tolaris. You?"

"Karin Vaza." Was the curt answer I received. And that was the start of something that helped the healing process along... <p><div style="text-align:center"></div>
<div style="text-align:center">Proud NaNoWriMo-er, and sick, sick photoshop user! =D</div></p>